KGWrites

Lillian

Autumn District, Fallen Kingdom of Aldiron

The day was ashen grey, as all days seemed to be in Aldiron now. The fires that had consumed the city during the siege had long since burned out, leaving in their wake the dark skeletons of many buildings that never quite seemed to stop smoking. Soot and dust choked the streets, and the smell of acrid smoke blocked the sea air from cleansing the city.

It had been only a year before this that Lillian had moved through these streets as an urchin, scrounging for scraps of coin and food wherever she could have found it. She’d moved as a whisper then, another face in the crowd and one too small to notice.

Now though, she was a ghost of a different kind. A lonely spectre, haunting the dead streets, passing without a trace as she carefully moved across the ash and dirt to hide her tracks. There were no crowds to hide within anymore, people who did leave the shelter of their homes hurried from place to place quickly, spending the rest of their time behind doors and walls, hiding from the horror their home had become.

Patrols of legionnaires still moved through the city, as they had before the fall. Now though, they were legionnaires of the second legion of Aldiron. During the siege, the legion’s commander and Grand Marshall of all Aldiron’s armies, Lord Martyn Hills, had betrayed the loyalist forces, opening the northern gates of the city to allow the enemy to enter and attacking the palace with the full force of his legion. While his attempt to seize the palace and with it, Princess Iona Ravellan, had failed, Hills’ legion remained loyal to Draconeus’ new rule and had taken on the role of “keeping the peace” within the streets.

As far as Lillian had seen, “keeping the peace” really meant free reign to do as they pleased and harass or even assault people in the streets if given even the slightest provocation. The second legion had become tyrants, intent on continuing Aldiron’s suffering. Lillian had seen more than a few people bearing bruising or even broken bones from a run in with the legionnaires.

If you were lucky, the second legion was all you would run into.

If you came across any of the Accursed, then you had to hope that the monsters were occupied with other things. The beatings received from legionnaires may have been bad, but the injuries that Lillian had seen the Accursed deal to people… she shuddered as she walked.

Ahead of her, Lillian became aware of the chattering of voices and instantly she ducked right and into an alleyway between a still standing house and the remains of one long since burned down. There she dropped to the ground and crawled back into the shadows of the alley, pulling her hood tight to her head to hide her pale skin and hoping that the mud and ash staining the cloak she wore was enough to blend her into the ground.

The voices had been too confident and loud to have come from any member of Aldiron that now lived in fear of Draconeus’ rule. They moved quickly and spoke rarely, and even then, their voices rarely rose above a whisper.

Legionnaires, it had to be. Lillian was simply thankful that there was no sign of any of the crazed, choked voices of the Accursed along with them.

The voices approached down the street at the end of the alley, growing louder until Lillian could make out the words.

“- what did she think would happen?” One voice asked.

“Probably thought we’d be all merciful like.” Another responded before slipping into a whiny, high-pitched imitation of someone. “Please, my son is starving. He won’t ever try and steal food again. Yeah, right. Like we’d believe that.”

“I believe it now though, after what Willem did to the kid’s hand.” The first responded with a cruel laugh.

“Did you hear them bones go though? Like dry twigs they was.” The second man laughed as well. They were about to pass the end of the alleyway. Lillian slowed her breathing, closing her eyes and wishing that they would just move on.

“Fucking musical that.” The first man agreed. Every muscle in Lillian’s body tensed as she heard them come to a stop at the end of the alley.

“Hang on a minute.” The first voice said to his comrade who stopped in his tracks.

“What? See something?” He asked. Lillian’s fist closed around the hilt of her dagger, strapped across the small of her back beneath her cloak. Quick strikes, that’s what Alyx had told her when she’d first given her the dagger. Aim for wrists, elbows, knees and eyes, hurt them bad enough and you get a chance to run.

The footsteps of one man moved a short ways into the alley before Lillian heard the sound of shifting belt buckles and cloths.

“Need to piss.” The first man replied to his curious comrade. The sound of liquid splashing down into the dirt reached Lillian’s ears, along with a horrid smell that caused her to stifle a gag.

“Fuck sakes.” The second man said, frustration clear in his voice. “Couldn’t have fucking waited till we were back in the barracks?”

“Why? You got somewhere to be?”

“I’m not getting my fucking throat cut by rebels because you can’t hold more than a fucking sip of wine.” The man’s voice kept shifting, clearly he was looking around, worried.

“Relax. They’re not bothered about your fat hide.” The first man chuckled, shuffling his belt and breeches again. “Besides, I’m already done.” He turned and walked back to the street, muttering to himself. And then, mercifully, their voices began to recede down the street.

Lillian lay still for a moment more before she finally loosened her grip on her dagger and stood. She heaved in fresh air as soon as she was clear of the ground and moved quickly away from the small, stinking stream that was now running down the alleyway.

Shutting out the legionnaires and their words from her mind, Lillian began hurrying again, weaving through streets and alleys like a stray cat.

She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the animal she acted as. Beneath her cloak, secured on the tunic she wore, was an insignia bearing the symbol of two alley cats on a cobalt blue shield, one bronze and prowling around the other, a silver one sat straight as if on lookout. The insignia of her family, of the recently elevated Cobalts. She may have been far from Alyx and James, trapped in a city filled with enemies and danger while they searched for ancient relics and protected the princess. But Lillian was still a part of their family, and she refused to forget that.

It took her almost a full hour again to reach the edge of the Autumn District, beneath the city walls and creep up to the side of the large, abandoned bathhouse. The Ocean Pearl had somehow miraculously remained undamaged during the siege, likely sheltered by the wall it sat against the foot of. However, seeing as no-one had quite found the need for a luxury like a bathhouse since, it had remained closed, with its windows and doors boarded up.

The marble pillared façade had lost its polished white glow, now coated in a lair of grey ash and splashed with mud. In some cases, the pale stone was even splattered with red bloodstains. It looked entirely deserted, which was perfect.

Lillian wasn’t about to just walk up to the front door though. Second legion soldiers were often dumb, but not quite that stupid.

Instead, she crept around the side of the building, between it and one of the many inns that rested along the Tide Road. Keeping low, she crept up to a small window set at the base of the bathhouse wall. It had once been somewhere to allow steam from one of the private baths to escape from the building, though it too was now boarded up.

Coming to rest against the wall next to the window, Lillian allowed a slight rumble to rise up in her throat, causing a cooing sound like a pigeon. She repeated the sound three times and waited a moment. Then the wooden boards lifted up, opening the window like a hatch and another cooing sound replied in turn from within.

Smiling in relief, Lillian swung her legs through the open hatch and dropped through it. She landed softly on the balls of her feet on the tiled floor within and straightened. She offered the man and woman within a quick smile of thanks. Both of them smiled back at her, recognising her. They wore the armour of Aldiron legionnaires, just like the second legion’s, though they bore the number three etched into their armour, and wore green cloth beneath their armour. The second legion’s colours had been changed to black to reflect their allegiance to Draconeus, where the remaining soldiers loyal to Aldiron still bore Ravellan green.

Letting out a long sigh and relaxing muscles she hadn’t realised were tense, Lillian unclasped the grey cloak from around her shoulders and hung it on a hook once meant for towels just next to the room’s door. She shook out her now much shorter black hair from where it had been gathered at the back of her head. She’d taken to cutting it much shorter to keep it from tangling, it now gathered at the top of her neck around her chin. Then, finally prepared, Lillian stepped out from the little side room into the main body of the bathhouse.

It was a space vastly different from what it had been just weeks ago. Where the main pools of the baths would have been now held bedrolls, densely packed together. On several of them lay people, both soldiers and civilians. Some were sound asleep, laid as still as the dead. Others tossed and turned in their rest, haunted by visions and terrors Lillian could only guess at. Others still moaned in pain as they lay nursing injuries, some that lingered from the battle, others that had been dealt in the cruelties since.

A room once reserved for members of the bathhouse’s workforce had been converted into a makeshift kitchen, with pots of stew warming over small fires, tended by a few dedicated cooks. Most of these cooks were children around Lillian’s age, some even younger.

Racks and benches that had once held towels and soaps now bore weapons and scavenged pieces of armour. Tables bore hastily scrawled maps of the city, or bloody bandages and makeshift surgical tools.

Everything was practical and useful, none of the luxuries the space had once been known for remained. And nearly fifty people moved around the space in near silence. There was little need to whisper, the nature of bathhouses was to ensure privacy as much as possible. It was simply that people seemed not to speak as loudly since the siege.

Lillian wove through the people, exchanging nods and smiles with many of them. It made her more than a little uncomfortable. She was still getting used to the idea of people recognising her, let alone the number of them that sought her out specifically to thank her.

After escaping the palace, when she had calmed enough to think clearly, Lillian had guided the bulk of the people she’d met on the way out here to the Pearl. She’d figured that the wall would shelter it from the attacks and most of the trouble would be higher in the city by then. She’d been right, but it still hadn’t been easy to reach, and more than a few people had gotten separated, or even killed, along the way.

But still, the bathhouse had remained standing and empty, and it had already fallen to looting and been left afterwards. It had provided shelter, and in the weeks since, it had become far more than that.

She reached her destination, one of the side rooms that now acted as a private space, with tables and even a makeshift bed made out of the benches from within. She didn’t wait at the door or knock, simply stepping inside, startling the occupant, who struggled to stand quickly. They quickly relaxed though, as they saw it was Lillian who entered.

“How are you doing today?” She asked simply, pulling up a chair and using it as a step up to allow her to sit on the tabletop across from the bed. She pulled off one of her boots and turned it upside down, shaking loose some stones that had fallen into it. She wrinkled her nose at the smell from within it.

“And hello to you too, Little Lady Cobalt.” Reynard Junice replied with a half chuckle. “You really do get your charisma from Alyxandra, don’t you?”

Lillian sighed in exasperation.

“Hello Junice, nice weather isn’t it, how are you today? I’m doing great, the city’s still controlled by a Demon, and I almost got pissed on by an idiot from the second legion.”

Junice snorted out a laugh.

“At least almost means you didn’t actually get pissed on.” He said and Lillian shrugged an agreement, though she felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

“My leg is still aching, but I don’t need that damnable crutch anymore.” Junice continued, finally answering Lillian’s question.

“That’s good.” Lillian said simply, before looking to the part of Junice he had pointedly not addressed. “And your arm?”

Junice’s head turned to follow Lillian’s gaze, and he sighed, seeing the still bandage wrapped stump where his left hand ought to have been. It had been one of the first things the two of them had needed to deal with once they’d reached safety.

In protecting Lillian and Iona just after the second legion had betrayed the defenders, Junice had taken a sword to the wrist. It had bitten deeply, and he’d lost a lot of blood. By the time they had reached the bathhouse, Lillian had been as much carrying Junice as the other way around.

They’d managed to tourniquet the arm to stop him from bleeding to death, but the wound had still been deadly. When Junice had come to, they’d discussed options and the royal guardsman had eventually, reluctantly, agreed to let the other survivors amputate the hand.

Still though, it had been a tough few weeks while Junice had struggled to accept the permanent change. He’d angrily lashed out and cursed at people who would try to talk to him about it. The group had soon found that Lillian was one of very few who could get him to speak openly about it.

“I’ve been told that even if we hadn’t taken it off, it probably would have led to the whole hand being paralysed anyway. And the risk of infections and rot setting in…” Junice said softly after a moment before he looked up into Lillian’s eyes.

“I think you saved my life, Little Lady Cobalt.”

“You’re welcome.” Lillian replied curtly, pulling her boot back on. To an outsider, it would seem almost as if Lillian didn’t care about saving Junice, or even that she was openly resentful of him. But in truth she was glad to hear he was healing well, and that he seemed to be gaining a more positive outlook on the loss of his hand. This almost hostile attitude between them was more of a joke that had begun within the pair. Lillian had spoken to Junice so little in the first few days after the battle that he had joked that she was carrying on the tradition of a Cobalt not liking him, taking over in Alyx’s absence.

“Where is he?” She then asked Junice, hopping down from the table now that she was satisfied he was alright.

“Through in the basement.” Junice replied, gesturing with the stump towards the way she had come. Lillian nodded and turned to leave, when she heard Junice standing behind her, stifling a groan of pain as he did so.  

“You don’t have to come.” She told him, turning to look at him again. Junice shrugged.

“Apparently I shouldn’t sit too long, it doesn’t help my leg heal.”

Lillian gave a mock sigh of annoyance, though again her mouth twitched upwards in a smile as she led Junice from the room.

They crossed the main bathhouse again and moved into the furthest side chamber, past the entrance that Lillian had used. This room was dominated entirely by the collapse of the wall at one end, opening into the wide space of the wine cellar of the inn beyond it.

In the room’s centre was a wide table, with a map of Aldiron spread out across it and marked with various makeshift markers, mostly knives from the inn’s kitchen. Leaning on the table with both hands, his long brown hair falling loosely around his head as he stared at the map, was the leader of their shelter, and of Aldiron’s resistance against Draconeus.

Even exhausted as he was, General Marius Fridolf was a stunningly attractive man. Tall and broad shouldered, with muscles it seemed not even his armour could properly hide. His pale green eyes were narrowed in quiet focus. A curving pale scar framed his right eye. A thick beard of a light brown to match his hair was shading his cheeks and mouth. He still wore his green cloak of Aldiron and a suit of armour that bore more than a few marks and dents from battle. His sword was leaned against the table next to him, the bronze metal wrapped around the pale ivory of the hilt gleaming in the candlelight that flickered in the dark basement.

Marius had been found by Lillian and some others when they risked a supply run the day after the battle, knocked unconscious in the rubble and being guarded by Lord-Captain Haster, the commander of the Aldiron city guard. The two of them had been brought back to the Pearl. When Marius had eventually awoken and felt well enough to move again, the shelter of the Pearl had been turned into a centre for organising a rebellion, dedicated to continuing to defend Aldiron and its people while Iona sought the weapon to end Draconeus.

It had expanded quickly, leading to the space being expanded by knocking through the walls into the basement of the inn on one side of the bathhouse and the warehouse for the docks on the other. At their current rate of taking in people though, Lillian wondered whether they’d have to consider expansion again before long.

Lillian cleared her throat as she and Junice approached, making Marius look up from his study of the map. He smiled when he saw them both and waved them over.

“Welcome back Lillian, did you have any trouble?” He asked her and she shrugged.

“A few patrols I needed to avoid, but nothing I couldn’t handle.” She replied honestly and Marius nodded.

“Good. How are things with the others?” He asked and Lillian lifted the small bag she carried from its position slung at her side.

“No problems. They’ve written you with full details but so far everyone reports it’s fine. Haster is well set up in the Winter District. He says there’s still lots of carts being taken up the Stoop into the Spring District. His people raided one of them moving through the Winter District, he says its wooden stuff taken from the destroyed buildings.” Lillian reported quickly.

It was a role she had been glad to take on once the resistance had spread to other districts of the city and set up different bases. Her experience moving through the city unnoticed, particularly the lower regions, meant that she was well suited to run messages and supplies between them.

“Good, that matches with other things we’ve been told. Well done Lillian. Get some rest, I’ll need you to run a message to Haster again once I’ve written it and you’re recovered.” Marius said, causing Lillian to swell with pride at herself.

“Oh?” Junice asked from behind her.

“We need him to create unrest within the Winter District, strike and disappear. They’ll need to commit forces to deal with him, which might give us a chance to find a foothold in the upper city districts. Apparently Draconeus has a plan to gather a lot of people together for an announcement in the upper city, and we need eyes on that.” Marius explained, drawing his finger across the map to indicate where he was talking about.

“How do you know what he’s planning?” Lillian asked, approaching the table and looking down at the map with narrowed eyes. Nothing on it suggested Marius had anyone in the upper city yet, and she would likely know about any messages being sent.

Wordlessly, Marius pointed over to a shadowed corner of the room. Lillian straightened and walked closer, the darkness ahead of her forming into a strange shape. A pole, around four feet tall, was driven into the ground. A single short stick branched off the top of it, wrapped tight in leather bands.

There was no mistaking the shape atop that branch though, clinging to the leather with bright yellow talons. The bird was a dark steel grey with a white underbelly and a beak that bore almost the same bright yellow as its legs. It wore a little leather cap over its head that blinded its eyes, though it still turned its head as Lillian approached.

“Is that…” Junice began, but he was cut off when Marius hummed and nodded.

“Zephyr. Found his way to me around a week ago with a small scroll attached to his leg. I verified the information he carried was correct, just in case it was a trap first. But once that was cleared, I started sending him back and forth as a messenger.”

Zephyr. Lillian recognised the name. He was Princess Iona’s personal falcon, she’d trained him since birth. But if he was carrying messages…

“So that means…” She started to say, turning back to Marius with a smile already forming on her face and being met with an equal smile back from him as she nodded. “We’ve still got a friend in Draconeus’ palace.”